


When the light dies, what of the shadow?

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Journey into Mystery, Thor (Comics), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Incest, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I miss my brother. I think I shall bring him back."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the light dies, what of the shadow?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For [fabulousasgard](http://fabulousasgard.tumblr.com/post/78193026269), who asked: so what if it was Kid Thor and Loki? (With thanks to Schaudwen for the title!)

Thor dies, and Loki has no hand in it.

He battles against the Serpent, walks nine steps, and falls to the ground as if he's just tired, just taking a rest. But he doesn't get up.

*

Asgard is in mourning, and Loki retreats to Midgard to celebrate, to gloat. To drink himself into a stupor, night after night.

It's not the same: if he is to be the victor, then Thor should be on his knees at Loki's feet. If he is to be the victor, then Thor should have to bear the cost of losing, to live with the shame.

Winning is easy. It's boring.

It won't _do._

*

Gods are not meant to die, or if they do, they are not meant to remain gone. Certainly not Thor, the Thunderer, the beloved prince of Asgard. Valhalla would not have contained him for long in any case. Loki will just expedite the inevitable process.

Still, blood must be spilled, as it always must be. A god for a god, and as he slips the knife between the ribs of one of Asgard's finest, he says, "Thank you, child. Your sacrifice was not for nothing."

The child says nothing, busy as he is choking on his own blood.

Loki imagines he would be grateful, if he knew what his sacrifice was for. 

This is the easy part.

*

The boy smiles toothily up at him. His eyes are very blue, and only slightly wary. "Hey mister, you lost?"

"No, but you look as if you don't know where you're supposed to be."

The boy glances around. "I'm waiting for someone."

"Are you?"

A woman comes up to them, tugs Thor to her. "Come on, sweetie, let's go."

Loki narrows his eyes. "Is this your son?"

She falters slightly, "He's - he's adopted."

"You can't just take in a street child and call him your own, he's not a dog."

"She's my - she's my mom," Thor says, but he sounds confused. He sounds lost.

"No, she's not. Because I'm your brother, and some mortal wench certainly didn't shove me out of their bloodied quim."

"Hey -" the woman starts to protest, but Loki says, "Go away," and she does. Disappears into the far distance, and then it's only him, only Thor.

Loki touches Thor's cheek, feels the skin warm against the tips of his fingers. "Remember what you are, Thor. Remember."

Thor sways on his feet, and Loki has to catch him before he falls.

*

It is an intoxicating idea. He can re-write Thor's story: not erase the past, that he can't do, but he can write his future.

A new god, for a new age.

Something feels strange about his face, and when he puts his hand to it he finds his lips curled up into a smile. It's a been a while.

*

Thor doesn't wake until Loki returns back to his abode, sets him down onto the bed. When he finally sits up he rubs his eyes, says, "I'm starving. What's there to eat?"

Loki snorts. "I see you haven't changed much, then." He feeds him, watches him as he shovels food into his mouth. Thor looks exactly - exactly - he has to close his eyes, before the memories overwhelm. "What do you remember?"

Thor puts down his spoon, pushes a lock of hair behind his ear. "I'm a god, I know this. But more than that -" He trails off, stares at Loki.

Loki smiles, and puts his elbows down onto the kitchen table, leans in so their faces are near. "So let me educate you, Thor of Asgard, on who you are."

*

Thor says he was wandering on the streets when a car almost ran him over, glanced him on the hip instead. The woman that hit him - 

"We should say goodbye," Thor tells Loki. "She took me in, took care of me. Can we please go and say goodbye?"

"No," Loki says.

"But I -"

"I said no."

The boy merely nods, and does not argue the matter. 

*

They board a train; Loki takes a private cabin, and Thor tries to open the window, first thing. "You are not a dog," Loki says, "Don't lean your head out with your tongue hanging out."

"It doesn't open anyway," Thor says, with great disappointment. He slumps down into the seat, his mouth turned down into a frown. "Is there something to do, then?"

"I can tell you a story."

"More stories?" But he sits up straight, a spark in his eyes. "So tell me another story, then. Make it good."

Loki tells him about Jörmungandr, eating the universe. He tells him about a neverending cycle that can only be broken by a true warrior, a true god. He tells him about death, and rebirth, and the end of all things.

"Ragnarök," Thor says.

"No." He takes Thor's face between his hands. "That is not true freedom. True freedom is being able to write your own story, your own end. Will you help me, Thor?"

"I -" Thor says, and hesitates for a moment too long.

*

Loki changes into Midgardian clothes, does the same for Thor. "Why are we hiding," Thor asks. "We are gods."

Loki sighs. "Midgard is a wretched place, you will learn this soon enough."

"The ice cream is amazing, though." Thor is on his third chocolate sundae, his mouth sticky and his tongue pink as he licks the spoon. He takes Loki's word without question, without hesitation.

Loki wants to paint him, wants to turn him into a masterpiece, a weapon for Loki and Loki only to wield. "Finish your ice-cream," he says. "Then perhaps an adventure." 

Thor brightens.

He takes Thor up to the roof of the train, to watch the stars speed by. Thor cranes his head back. "Where is Asgard?"

"You can't see it from here, it's in - it rests on Midgard now, I will take you."

"Soon?"

"Perhaps."

"If I am a prince -"

"Shh," Loki says. "Asgard is home, but it is Asgard that killed you. I will not see that happen to you again, not when you're this vulnerable."

"I'm not vulnerable," Thor says, and Loki has to catch him as he stands in a rage, before he tumbles off the roof.

"You are a godling in a universe filled with gods and monsters with powers you cannot even imagine. We will return when you are ready, and not a moment sooner." Thor is still in his arms, his face pressed to Loki's chest. He pushes Thor slightly away, tilts his head up with a finger to his chin, says, "Don't worry. I'll take care of you, I promise. That's what brothers are for, after all."

*

Thor is a terror. Loki realizes this soon enough, starts to recall what he's long buried and left for dead. His brother's wild laughter, his endless supply of irrepressible energy. His love of violence. 

And oh, that violence. So sweet and pure and completely untapped. Loki's seen him in berserker rage before, stayed out of his way mostly as he became the lightning and the thunder made flesh, as the ground trembled beneath his feet.

Loki was always awed, always afraid.

But now: Thor's just a child, and Loki is not.

*

"So tell me another story," Thor says, as they trek up a mountain. The sky is a frosted green and the foliage around them is dark, filled with secrets that growl and whisper menacingly. If Thor is afraid, he does not show it.

"So now you want my stories?"

"You do enjoy the sound of your own voice, brother."

If Loki hadn't already planned for Thor to be attacked, to be kidnapped by the beasts hiding beneath the soil, this certainly would have led him to it. Thor screams as the ground gives way beneath his feet, reaches out for Loki's grasping hand. Loki can't reach far enough, of course he can't, and the last thing he sees is Thor's pale, terrified face.

The beasts will fatten the boy up first, eat him at the end of the week. Loki waits until it's close, but miscalculates slightly so that when he breaks into their caves, Thor is on a slab, ready to be gutted.

"I believe you have my brother," Loki says. "Really, it's not polite to eat your company."

The battle is short, and brutal, and Loki makes sure Thor sees him struggle before he triumphs. He picks Thor up into his arms when it's all over, marvels at how little he weighs. Thor buries his face in Loki's throat, and starts to weep. "I'm sorry - I tried to fight them, but I -"

"It's all right, Thor. No one has to know of your weakness, I promise. It will be our secret."

Thor merely nods.

He's filthy, and so Loki takes him down the mountain, to a crystal clear lake at the bottom of a waterfall. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"Is it safe?"

"It is safe. The water is magic, no one dares trespass." He sits Thor near the waterfall, cleans him slowly, thoroughly. 

Thor doesn't speak until Loki's washing his hair, threading his fingers through dark gold strands. "I knew you would come," he says, and Loki stills, his hand in Thor's hair. Loki inhales, a hot, choking breath, and Thor turns his head. His cheeks are pink, his face soft and unguarded. "I remember -" But then he stops.

"What do you remember."

Thor's cheeks turn even redder. "Nevermind."

*

Loki awakes to screaming. He thinks at first they are under attack, but it is only Thor, yelling in his sleep. Loki has to avoid his flailing hands, hold him down until he jerks awake. "You were dreaming," Loki says. "It was merely a dream."

"They were going to -" Thor chokes off a sob. "They said gods tasted the best, and godlings were the sweetest, rarest of nectar."

"There, there." 

He releases his hold, and Thor launches himself at him, refuses to let go. "Don't leave me, please." 

Loki wraps his coat around them both, rubs Thor's back soothingly until he stops trembling. "We will have to do something about this." Thor sniffs. "Well, we can't have creatures roaming the realms thinking they're entitled to god stuff, can we?"

"No," Thor says, and some steel enters his voice. "We can't."

"When you are stronger," Loki says, into the shell of his ear. "You will face them as a god."

*

Things change, after that. It's so subtle Loki barely notices, and yet there it is.

Thor follows him through the realms, his constant shadow. Loki disguises himself more often than not, and still the tales travel. Loki the trickster. Loki the liar. The god that will set family against family, smile as cities burn and laugh over the ashes of children.

Thor hears all of this, Loki knows, and yet he says nothing. He only grows taller, stronger. Still a boy, but a slightly older one. Only once does he say, "I have heard that we are sworn enemies, you and I. The other me." He pauses. "The older me."

"I don't deny that we have spilled each other's blood over the centuries," Loki says. "But I brought you back. No-one else."

"Why? If you hate me so."

"Hate is for mortals, with their petty, inconsequential lives," Loki says.

Thor tilts his chin up, stubborn. "Then why should I trust you?"

"You should not. I have brought many men to their deaths with my words, with my actions. You should return to Asgard. Let them tell you who you're meant to be. Be their savior. Be Midgard's protector."

"Perhaps I should," Thor says.

But he does not.

*

Loki is startled awake from sleep. It's Thor, crouched so near to Loki he can feel a heartbeat, strong and young. "What do you want," he says. 

They are on a mountain, in search of a rare and precious gem. Loki has always coveted it, but its retrieval requires something he has never had before: the touch of a pure, willing soul. 

"What do you want with the gem?"

"I plan to use it for the most nefarious of purposes," Loki replies. "Did you wake me just to bother me with a question that could have waited until dawn."

"No." Thor hesitates. "I'm cold." Loki waves a hand, raises the fire behind them. Thor turns to glance at it, turns back. "But that's not why I -" His voice is soft, almost I audible as he puts his hand over Loki's heart. "I remember this."

"What do you remember," Loki asks, his throat dry.

"Nights like these. You and I." His lashes lower, and he opens his mouth. "Please, do not make me say it." He kisses Loki before Loki can reply, sweet and yearning. "We were more than brothers, were we not?" His hand is on Loki's breeches, stroking his cock through the rough material. "Weren't we?"

Loki moans. "Yes."

"Brother," Thor says, and it is the sweetest thing, that word. "Please."

"Yes," Loki says, again and again, as he flips them over, pushes Thor down into the dirt. "Yes."

*

"But will we ever go to Asgard," Thor asks, again.

"But of course. Asgard is in my blood, as much as it is in yours."

"And what do you plan to do there?"

"Do you know why chaos exists, boy?" Thor shrugs, uncaring. "It exists to facilitate change. And yet for all my effort - for all that I exist, for all that I burn so that others might not stay forever stuck in this wretched muddy existence, nothing ever does change. They resist me, they fall back into patterns that they have held on to for millennia."

"I know," Thor says, and sighs. He crosses his arms across his chest. "But can we not just have fun, brother?"

"We are gods, not mortals. Mortals can have their -" he feels his lip curl around the word.

"Then perhaps I was better off as a mortal." He turns to stomp off, but Loki grabs his arm, drags him into his lap. 

Thor squirms, but is suddenly far more interested in remaining with Loki. Loki sighs. "Is this all you ever think about? Fulfilling the basest of desires?"

"What else is there," Thor replies, and there's an almost painfully familiar smirk on his face.

*

Thor seems to want nothing else, after that.

Loki finds himself kissing him constantly, as if they were both still young and flush with life, unable to control themselves. Thor demands, and when the demands don't work he wheedles, and Loki will sometimes drag him close merely to shut him up.

He shifts and squirms under Loki, still mostly knobby knees and sharp shoulders, while Loki holds him down with one hand, ruts against him. "I want to take you," Loki says, once.

"Then why don't you?" Thor slides his hands between his own naked legs, pushes his thighs apart. "I will not stop you."

Loki grabs him by the hips, drags him close so he's almost in Loki's lap. "You're not ready."

"What kind of a god was I," Thor asks, for about the hundredth time.

"Thunder," Loki replies, for about the hundredth time.

"I fear nothing. I will feel you in me, brother."

Loki leans down, kisses his cheek. "But not today."

*

"So when will I be ready, then?" 

They are on a cliff, overlooking two armies, locked in loud, violent combat. Chaos, as it was meant to be. Loki inhales, tastes the blood in the air. "Now is really not the time." 

But Thor has stopped listening, has instead wandered off and fallen to his knees. There is a soldier on the ground, bleeding. Loki says, "Step away," but Thor ignores him. Instead he helps the soldier take off his helmet, presses his hand to the wound on his neck. "Please," the soldier says.

"Shh," Thor says. "It will be all right, I promise."

"He is already dead," Loki says.

Thor stares up at him, and his eyes are filled with tears. "Help him."

"Why?" He waves his hand at the battle raging nearby. "And what of the rest? Do you wish me to save them too?"

Thor shakes his head. "Save _him_."

Loki takes him by the elbow, drags him up. "I cannot heal the dying, Thor."

Thor wrenches himself away. "Then what use are you? What use are we?"

"They pray to other gods, not us. Perhaps one of them will save him."

"Please," the boy says, and then he dies.

Loki pulls Thor to him, says, "I'm sorry," and is surprised when the words come out of his mouth. He is even more surprised that they're true.

*

Thor's in an impossible mood.

He's been running around all day, alternatively charming and terrorizing the locals, who are small, grey herd creatures of little worth, save for how they are the only ones that know how to hunt the creatures Loki seeks. Creatures whose tusks are impervious to almost all weapons. There are few of them left: their invincibility doesn't extend to their bodies, and their soft insides.

Thor is content do nothing but play and gorge himself on food and wine, ignoring Loki as he glares at him with narrowed eyes. Exactly like they always were as children - Thor's attention would wander, swiftly and without warning: Loki was entertaining one week, boring the next. 

In the end, Loki grabs him and forcibly drags him away, throws him down onto the soft furs they've been using as a bed. Thor growls at him, and Loki sinks down next to him, puts his knee onto Thor's soft belly. At that Thor stills, eyes widening. "I didn't -" he begins.

"Shut up," Loki says.

"Do not tell me what to do." His gaze darkens as he tries to push away from Loki, but the struggle is brief. He simmers down somewhat as Loki bears down on him, and now there's a different type of intensity in his gaze. "Brother," he says, and his voice is a promise, a wish, a plea. 

Loki wraps Thor's legs around his waist, drags him close for a kiss. 

They fuck on the soft furs, Thor's heated cheek pressed into Loki's shoulder as he shudders and weeps, and oh his brother has never been this open, this sweet. Or perhaps he was, once. Perhaps they both were. Memory is a tricky thing, and here and now Loki can only think of Thor as he is, his fingers digging into Loki's skin and his soft sighs, his stifled gasps of pain and pleasure both.

He hears later that half the valley was flooded, laughs gaily as Thor flushes with faint guilt. The creatures they came for float to the surface, together with a fair number of the locals. 

It's the best of all possible outcomes: Loki won't have to waste his time now, making threats against them so they will help him seek out the animals. He gathers five of the creatures, skins them as Thor watches, his face tight with distaste. "Is this completely necessary?"

"It is."

"Why?" His face turns dark, almost mutinous. 

"Guilt is for mortals, Thor. Gods do not have the luxury of regret." 

He fashions one of the tusks into a blade, bound with uru and magic.The gem he nestles into its handle, where it gleams softly. Not quite a hammer to wreck realms with, but it will do for now. Mjolnir remains broken, bound as it was to the life force of its owner. Thor is not yet strong enough to wield it. 

The hides he turns into a coat, tosses it at Thor. "Put this on," he says. "I tire of you shivering all the time."

Thor wraps the coat around himself, but his expression remains sour until Loki hefts the sword into his hand, says, "What do you think? Fit for a god, no?"

"Is that mine as well?"

"You'll have to earn it if you want it." He puts the sword to Thor's neck, just enough that Thor can feel how sharp it is. Thor stands his ground, merely runs his fingers almost delicately along the flat of the gleaming bone.

"I had a hammer," he says, almost dreamily.

Loki scowls. "This is better," he replies. "This I made, not our wretched father." He has only spoken the truth about Odin, but it is enough. "Prove yourself worthy, Thor. To me."

"Aye, I will."

*

They stop to rest in a village in Vanaheim, and within a day Loki has started a minor skirmish. Just a little one, barely a dozen dead, a few more injured. No blood on his hands, and yet he leaves a trail that leads directly to his doorstep. Loki widens his eyes and opens his hands when they come for him, says, "I will come with you. Do not hurt the boy."

But Thor pushes himself in front of Loki, and somehow he has picked up the sword that Loki has not yet given to him, left carelessly on the table. There's hesitation in his stance, but his voice is clear when he says, "If you want my brother, you will have to go through me."

There's loud laughter, which only dies down when one of the men says, "And you will protect him, child? With that sword you can barely carry?" He pushes Thor aside with a lazy swipe of his massive hand, and Thor flies into the wall, falls to the ground in a heap. 

Loki watches him, ignores the fist in his collar, the foul breath on his skin. "You should run," he tells the man nearest to him.

"And why should we do that?"

"Because my brother is rising."

Thor, who could not control his rage until late into his life. Who bathed in thunder and lightning and struck fear in the hearts of older, more powerful gods. 

"What can that boy do to us?"

"Not a boy," Loki says, and if Thor recognizes Loki as he stalks towards them, he shows no sign. He pulls away, unwilling to be in the path of the most wrathful of young gods. "You really shouldn't have laughed."

When it is over, Thor is covered in blood, and the sword hangs loosely from his fingers as he stands in the midst of the carnage, breathing heavily. Loki takes the weapon from him, and Thor starts. 

Loki wipes a spot of blood from his cheek. "You did well," he says. 

"Is what - is what they said true?"

"Does it matter?"

"But what was your purpose? What did you wish to accomplish?" Thor sounds confused.

"Mischief is its own reward," Loki says. "I am what I was born to be. What I -" He burns. He always burns, has always been burning. 

Thor takes Loki's hand into his, and it's so small, still. "You're my brother," he says. "That is who you were born to be."

*

It's time, far too soon.

Loki takes Thor back to Midgard, where he is still mourned as an Avenger fallen. Where there are dreadful toys in his likeness, and an international day of remembrance for his passing.

By now, Thor has heard over and over again that Loki is a villain. He has also heard that he - his old self - was a hero, beloved across the realms. But it has always been only words, only stories. And yet, what else are they? Thor's been melancholic since Vanaheim, often lapsing into contemplative silence.

On a ship, sailing across the Pacific, Loki stands on the deck and puts his hand on his brother's shoulder. "We can return to Asgard next."

"I am not certain I want to, now."

"What's changed," Loki asks, surprised.

Thor wipes the back of his hand swiftly across his cheek. "I love you. I remember - that's all I remember, that you are my brother and I love you. I don't want that to change."

"Change is inevitable."

"But we're different now. What if we're not, when we return home?" There is such anguish in his voice. "You burn, and what do I do? What am I?"

"You are noble," Loki says, weary. "You are noble, and brave, and you will stop me from doing what I have to."

"Then why do we return to Asgard? We could just stay here." 

"Because -" Loki says. "What happens next might yet be something new. That's the only hope I have: that the story might end differently this time." 

"And how would you wish it to end?" 

Loki smiles down at Thor, and bends to kiss him. "Surprise me."


End file.
